


The Fox and the Merchant

by addledwalrus



Category: Japanese Mythology, Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Asian Character(s), Bathing/Washing, Blood and Violence, Business, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fantasy, Father-Son Relationship, Heroism, Historical, Historical Fantasy, Historical References, Humor, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Japanese Character(s), Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Kitsune, Loneliness, Lust, Massage, Moral Ambiguity, Morally Ambiguous Character, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nudity, Old Friends, Relationship Advice, Romance, Self-Doubt, Sexual Content, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Humor, Social Commentary, Supernatural Elements, Tea, Tengu, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25219858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addledwalrus/pseuds/addledwalrus
Summary: Japan, late sixteenth century.As Ichiro, a young and ambitious merchant's son, travels to collect wares for his family's tea business, he encounters obstacles in the form of ruthless bandits and supernatural creatures out to cause mischief.Among them is Kumiko, an impulsive low-ranking kitsune who begins to rethink her purpose in life after saving him from danger. As feelings of lust give way to love, can they earn each others trust before it's too late?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. The Lowly Farmer

**Winter, second year of Keichō***

After a hard day in the fields, Rikichi was all too relieved to return to the comfort of his home.

Planting sweet potatoes in the cold of winter was tough, but making sure there was enough surplus to be paid as tax to the soldiers fighting in Chōsen** was even tougher.

The chalky taste of dirt arose in his mouth and he spat at the icy ground in contempt. This country was heading closer to ruin each year and just when one thought clashes between warlords were disastrous enough, such powerful men had to go ahead and try to conquer a land that they had no business interfering with.

But then again, those who waged war were also the ones who benefited from it the most. The lives of lowly peasants such as him mattered not, so long as the aristocratic classes could continue to live in their magnificent castles and bask in victories without ever putting themselves in danger.

He exhaled at the poor deal that life had given him, before continuing on and thinking of the only thing that kept him going when times were rough.

His wife Matsu had borne three children over the past five years and he couldn't wait to sit down and warm his feet while entertaining them with another story. Although they loved hearing about the adventures of Peach Boy,he planned on telling the tale of the two frogs tonight for a change.

As long as he made amusing enough croaks, they wouldn't care less about anything he said. For that reason, he felt glad that their wants were still fairly simple, unlike those of his wife who never seemed to be satisfied.

She was a close contender for the village's most gossipy woman, and there wasn't a single morning that he didn't catch her sharing bawdy news with some neighbor's wife outside their house.

Just today, she had given one of her friends a most detailed account of the breeding habits of Sadaharu's pigs and afterwards, both women had burst into shameless, raucous laughter.

He shook his head in dismay, knowing that Matsu would be his ruin someday. If she didn't wear him out with her demands, then she would surely put him in mortal danger with her careless words.

Such was his lot in life, and upon taking a few more steps, it became apparent that his end was about to arrive sooner than he expected.

A robed man with wild eyes and straggly hair charged out from the shadows, sword in hand and screaming. The suddenness left Rikichi with little time to react, and as the crazed ronin closed in, he could only shut his eyes and pray that it would be over quickly.

* * *

**Notes:**

*** It is the winter of 1597 AD, if one follows the Gregorian calendar.**

**** The Japanese name for Joseon (modern day Korea).**


	2. A Formidable Maiden

Rikichi had been expecting the rōnin's sharp blade to slice through his flesh, so it came as a surprise when he heard a loud thud, followed by two distinct voices grunting at once.

He opened his eyes to see that a mysterious person had thrown themselves between him and the rōnin. Although, where they had come from, he could not say.

It took another moment for him to realize that his unexpected savior was nothing but a petite young girl, which made it even more shocking and impressive that she was successfully holding off the armed warrior by herself.

"Go home to your family," she hissed, pushing the rōnin's sword away from her face as her feet slid backward. "I've got this."

"Are you sure?" Rikichi instinctively asked, fearing for her well-being as any sane person would. "You're just a-"

"I said, I've got this!" the girl reaffirmed impatiently, as she deterred the rōnin once again by blocking his arm before his sword could even touch her.

The rōnin growled in anger and tried to cut her down a third time, only for her to step quickly to the left and slam her fist into the man's side, sending him flying several feet back as if he were a mere pebble.

A loud snap sounded in the distance, and Rikichi gaped in disbelief. What he'd just witnessed seemed too outrageous to be real, and the way the girl dusted her hands off afterward, only filled him with more doubt.

She spun around, allowing him a glimpse of her face for the first time. He noticed that she was rather pretty, even as she frowned and folded both arms across her chest. "Why are you still here? I thought I told you to leave."

Rikichi swallowed, trying his best to reconcile her dainty appearance with the brutishness he'd seen earlier. There was no way such a person could possess the strength to overpower a trained swordsman like that, unless they were, in actuality, a demon or spirit in disguise.

"Well, hurry!" she snapped. "Or else I'll take you instead."

Although he didn't know what she meant, Rikichi's desire to be with his family again was reason enough to avoid seeking answers. He took hurried steps back, apologizing all the while. "I'm sorry. I'll be on my way..."

At that, he turned and broke into a run, never once daring to look back at her.

* * *

Kumiko smiled at the fleeing farmer until he had disappeared, at which point she made her way over to where the rōnin lay.

The way he remained still and failed to respond to her presence led her to conclude that the force in which he'd hit the ground must have killed him.

Unfortunate as that was, it consoled her to know that unlike the others, he wouldn't suffer when she presented him to the great Lord Tengu as a potential meal.

She'd struck a deal with the powerful spirit a few months earlier so that she would routinely go out to capture people for him to eat in exchange for lodging.

Although she wasn't above manipulating or leading unsuspecting travelers astray, she preferred to target corrupt samurai, murderers, and thieves who, in her opinion, were deserving of death.

In addition to their lack of morals, such people also tended to be incredibly lustful. They'd lose restraint at the mere promise of carnal pleasure, and as they were busy undressing, she'd knock them out with a blow to the head. Then, she would load their unconscious body on to her back and spirit them away to Lord Tengu's abode, where he would devour their flesh and bones until there was nothing left.

While tonight had turned out to be a departure from the usual, she felt confident that the results would be the same. That farmer had been rightfully scared by her threat, and even if he tried to spread the word of what he'd seen, she figured that others would dismiss him as mad.

With that in mind, she prepared to shift the unlucky rōnin into a sitting position, only to remember that he had been holding a sword when she'd hit him.

The weapon was no longer anywhere to be seen, and with how quickly the sky was darkening, she realized that locating it again would delay her return by some time.

An exasperated sigh left her lips before she dragged her captive into the shadows and began her search.


	3. His Eminence, Lord Tengu

Tengumaru, or Lord Tengu, as he was called by his subjects, sat cross-legged on his dark tatami mat while awaiting the return of the pretty vixen named Kumiko.

He was getting restless since she should have been back already, and his stomach had been rumbling for some time. He shifted his feet slightly and stretched his arms with a crack, figuring that he would take matters into his own hands and go out hunting by himself if she didn't show up soon.

The door to his sitting room eventually slid open just as he was about to stand up. He hurriedly sat back down and put on his most serious expression, then greeted his visitor using the most regal sounding voice that he could muster. "Ah, Kumiko, do come in. I've been expecting you."

She nodded wearily, before throwing off her latest catch and prostrating herself on the floor as a show of respect. Lord Tengu chuckled, then inhaled deeply to compose himself.

"A worthy display. You may rise, and tell me about your find."

Kumiko did so and avoided direct eye contact while giving an account of the previous hour's events. "My Lord, this man here was a rōnin with no home and no ambition. I came upon him in the woods, and after making my presence known, he expressed his desire to sleep with me. I agreed, under the condition that he would disrobe first and give me some money in return when we were done."

Lord Tengu leaned his head against his hand in boredom. "So, it was a typical encounter?"

"Yes, my Lord," Kumiko replied meekly.

"I see. What about the money that you were promised?" he inquired, feeling curious as he gazed upon the rōnin's still face. Kumiko's hands curled into balled fists.

"I... I used it to buy myself a new pair of slippers. You can't see them right now because I dropped them off at my house before coming here."

Lord Tengu knew right away from her contrived excuse and nervousness that she was lying. However, the fact remained that she had brought him a worthy offering, and he decided it was best to forgive her for being tardy this time around.

"I see," he said to express his acceptance. "You may leave now. I wish to eat in peace."

She gave a firm nod, then left without a further word. The door slid gently shut, and as the sound of her footsteps faded away, he got to his feet and crossed over to where the rōnin lay.

He nudged the unresponsive warrior in the chest with his foot, and all of a sudden, they opened their eyes and gasped desperately for air.

"Where... where am I?" the rōnin asked frantically after catching his breath. "Who are you? What do you want with me?!"

Lord Tengu enjoyed witnessing such distress and kicked the frightened man in the side with a smirk. "What do I want? To see you suffer, of course. Are you ready?"

At that, Lord Tengu released the spell that gave off the illusion of a human appearance. His skin turned bright red, his nose grew by several inches, and gigantic black wings sprouted from his back.

The rōnin screamed and reached for his sword, only to find in horror that it wasn't there. Lord Tengu pounced right on him and, with a single swipe of his sharp claws, splattered the man's blood all over the adjacent wall.


	4. Dreams and Desires

Kumiko sat upon the floor in her single-room house, turning the rōnin's sword over in her hands while admiring its beauty and elegant design. The hilt and scabbard were a deep reddish-brown like the hide of a bay horse, and as she slowly unsheathed the sword, it's silver blade glinted in such a way that she had to blink to let her eyes adjust.

She stood up, and with both hands clasped around the sword's hilt, gave it a firm swing. The accompanying whoosh of air was satisfying to her ears, so she tried doing it again in the opposite direction, with similar results.

After a few more attempts, she grew confident enough to hold the sword with just one hand and pretend that she was stabbing at a charging enemy. Then, she drew her arm backward and imagined blood seeping out of the person's wound as they grunted in pain.

She gave another play-swing to signify herself slicing off the unfortunate person's head, before deciding that enough fun had occurred and that it was time to rest. She slipped the sword back into its scabbard and retreated to the room's corner where her futon was situated.

Upon loosening her long hair and slipping beneath the covers, she carefully placed the sheathed sword by her side, deciding that she would keep it as a memento of the day's events.

She extinguished the flame in her bedside lamp, which plunged her surroundings into darkness. The room became just a little colder, and as a result, she sought to keep herself warm by curling into a fetal position.

Like the previous night, she thought it a shame that a being as pretty as herself should remain without a partner or mate. Male kitsune were few and far between, and even though she'd been charmed by one in the past, she'd quickly become exhausted by his flamboyance and vanity that far exceeded her own.

In contrast, male humans seemed to be quite modest and restrained, from what she'd observed over the past couple of centuries. They also tended to be rather appreciative of her beauty, to the point that they'd go to great lengths just for a chance to bed her.

Of course, she hadn't exactly been receptive to their advances, often knocking them out before they could even touch her, or simply rejecting them outright.

She rolled on to her side and mulled over the next time she would need to find a meal for Lord Tengu. Perhaps, she'd try letting a man get close to her for a change, even if he happened to be an immoral character with a regrettable appearance.

A plan slowly took form in her mind, and eventually, the constant thinking left her tired enough to give in to sleep. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she drifted off to a dream world in which the forest was abuzz with the sounds of spring, and a nondescript man walked by her side.

They eventually reached a clearing, where he turned to take her hands into his own, and uttered words that made her heart soar with joy.

_"My lady, there is nobody in this world as lovely as you are. It will be an honor to copulate with you..."_

* * *

It was a nightmare that always began the same way. He'd be a child again, chasing his younger sister Isa through the tall grass, as he laughed and teased her for being slow.

She would run as fast as her short legs could carry her, but eventually, her energy would wane, and she'd abruptly stop to show that she was unwilling to play tag any further.

He'd open his mouth to scold her for giving up so quickly before she'd turn back around to face him with a look of utter betrayal.

 _"You..."_ she'd utter with a bitterness uncharacteristic of a seven-year-old girl, while pointing a quivering finger in his direction. _"You could have stopped him. Why didn't you?"_

The question would leave him speechless, and by the time he finally found the courage to answer, it would become clear that her patience had run out.

_"You didn't love me like mother and father did. You wanted me gone."_

Ichiro would always wake up without fail immediately afterward, overwhelmed by guilt and briefly forgetting that he was no longer a young boy.

This time had been no exception, with him needing to take deep breathes to compose himself and remember that he was in actuality a grown man of twenty years.

He soon became aware of his father snoring loudly in the next room, and knowing that it would be nigh impossible for him to fall asleep again, he rose in the hope of setting his mind on something else.

Even though wisdom dictated that one should never open a window during a winter night, he did so anyway to gaze at the starry sky and admire the full moon's brightness.

He found it in himself to smile upon realizing how peaceful it was outside, recalling a conversation between his parents that he'd overheard recently.

They were still trying to find him a future wife, and if there weren't any worthy women left in this town, they would likely settle on his uncle's daughter Kayo.

She'd been close friends with his sister Isa before the incident, and the two of them had often preferred to play with their dolls rather than join him in climbing trees or hunting for stag beetles.

Kayo now lived with her family in the port city of Osaka. Although he hadn't seen her in over ten years, his father had gone to visit the previous year and upon returning, reported that she had grown into a rather lovely and mild-mannered young woman.

If such words were true, then he would undoubtedly be lucky to have her as his bride. Yet, there was just something about the prospect that left him feeling apprehensive.

He shut his bedroom window and shuffled back to bed to mull over why it was the case, eventually concluding that his doubts were the result of Kayo still being nothing more than a little girl in his mind.


	5. A Comely Young Merchant

Winter had always been the busiest season of all, and ever since Ichiro had been given more autonomy in dealing with customers, he'd managed to earn more profit, while his family's supply of tea bricks shrunk at a faster rate.

As he finished up for the afternoon and mounted his carrying pole on to his left shoulder, he thought of his father on the other side of town. He suspected that there was some flaw in the man's approach, because the simple strategy of smiling and being polite had allowed him to reach the quota everyday in less time.

From his experience, it seemed that the women were almost always easier to lure over than the men. He wasn't sure if it was because they were more desperate or gullible, but they usually came strolling over as soon as he managed to get their attention.

After a compliment or two, they'd listen most intently as he explained why his tea was superior to everybody else's. Of course, much of it was just empty talk. The reality was that there were only so many tea plantations in the country and since imports from China were rare these days, it had become for all too common for different families to acquire their wares from the same location.

The competition was fierce, and even though he was currently doing well on his own, the uncertainty of the future still filled him with worry. As an only child, it was his responsibility to carry on his parents' legacy, regardless of whether he believed himself to be qualified for such a task.

 _If only acquiring a wife was as simple as acquiring a customer,_ he lamented in his mind while passing by a young woman with a heavily powdered face and simple blue robe. She sensed his gaze and in an act that would normally be considered discourteous, stopped to stare straight into his eyes.

He instinctively did the same, noticing a smile begin to creep in on her face, before she quickly turned and scurried away, apparently embarrassed to be around him.

_What have I done? That was improper of me..._

He continued on dejectedly, knowing that having a wife around would help lighten his burden, as well as provide another means of relieving himself if his desire ever became overwhelming.

Returning his thoughts to the young woman from earlier, he wondered if she'd been a prostitute on her way to the brothel. Her makeup and garb had seemed to indicate so, and he paused to consider indulging in the company of a lady like her.

He had plenty of money on his person; more than enough to pay for an hour or so of pleasure. As long as he avoided exerting himself too much, his parents would be none the wiser to what he'd done, and he wouldn't be subjected to a lengthy interrogation.

However, as he kept on walking and staying out of the way of others, it occurred to him that such an endeavor would come with serious risks. Rumor had it that several years before he was born, foreigners had arrived with a mysterious disease and infected the local prostitutes. In turn, many of those prostitutes had passed it on to their clients, whom had then passed it on to their wives, whom had then passed it on to their children, thus leading to hundreds of deaths.

Realizing how lucky he was to have been born healthy, and unwilling to squander that good fortune for the sake of temporary gratification, he discarded his daring plan in favor of visiting the local bathhouse for some physical and spiritual cleansing.

It was one thing that he wouldn't have to lie to his mother about, since she was a frequent patron herself, and she'd once been adamant that his father do the same.

Knowing this, he had a feeling that she'd be all too glad to shove some clean clothes into his hands, then send him back out the door without so much as a second thought.

* * *

Ichiro had always felt shy about undressing in front of others, with now being no exception. He glanced over his shoulder while fumbling with his _obi_ , and inadvertently caught the attention of the bathhouse proprietor: a stout old man with a deeply wrinkled forehead and brash manner.

"You, over there! Take your clothes off faster, or else I'll do it for you instead!" the man shouted, striding towards him in such an aggressive way that he had to protest.

"O-Of course! Just give me a little more time, my hands are still numb from the cold!"

"Hmph! Young men like you are too soft!"

An already nude woman giggled from the other side of the room, at which point the old man turned and left him alone to hastily remove the rest of his clothes, only returning later to provide him with a ration of hot water in a bucket.

He uttered a simple 'thank you,' before taking it and leaving the changing room, eager to obscure himself in the dim and steamy bathing area as soon as possible. Unfortunately, upon entering, he heard only the quiet chatter of women and swallowed in dread.

_Why did I choose today? Are these ladies conspiring against me?_

He cleared his throat to make his presence known, as was the polite thing to do. Then, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, until he was able to count eight women and two other men in total.

_I'm not alone, after all. That's a relief..._

With a sigh, he crouched down to enjoy the warm air around him, then dampened his washcloth in order to begin dabbing at his face. From there, he proceeded to his neck, torso, arms, legs, and finally feet, which he also dipped straight into the bucket.

Afterwards, he smiled in satisfaction at having once again made it through a public washing without being assaulted or teased about his body. He grabbed his bucket and got up to return to the change room, only for a feminine voice to sound right behind him, apparently seeking his attention.

"Hey, you. Why are you in such a rush to leave?"

"Huh? Are you talking to me?" he asked, stopping and turning his head to face none other than the giggling woman from earlier.

"Yes," she replied with a coy smile while shifting from a squatting position to a relaxed sitting one. This had the effect of making the curve of her breasts and hips become all the more apparent, and he found himself heating up even more.

"So... what is it you want to tell me?"

"Nothing. I just want to ask you for a favor..."

"What?"

She giggled once more before answering. "My shoulders are a bit stiff today. Could you massage them for me?"

Ichiro wasn't sure what to make of such a request, so he sought clarification. "Massage? As in _touch_ you?"

"Of course, silly..."

He reached up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. "Why are you asking me? There are nine, no, ten other people in this-"

"You seem to be good with your hands, that's why," she interrupted hurriedly. "Don't just stand there. Help me, please..."

It took a quick look at her pouting face and another scan of her naked body for Ichiro to make up his mind. Although he was unlikely to lose his virginity anytime soon, a chance to place his hands upon a woman's bare shoulders was still better than nothing.

He acquiesced with a nod, then made his way over, ready to begin working his magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The disease that Ichiro heard about was none other than syphilis, which is believed to have arrived in Japan during the early sixteenth century
> 
> \- Mixed-sex bathing was traditionally the norm until the end of the late nineteenth century, when there were repeated attempts to have it banned, as a result of prostitution becoming common at such venues, and because the idea of men and women bathing together had begun to be seen as immoral


	6. Shinrokurō's Proposal

The encounter at the bathhouse remained fresh in Ichiro's mind the following day, and even while helping his parents to close up shop for the day, he couldn't stop thinking about how soft and warm that young woman's skin had felt beneath his fingers.

Despite the obvious dangers of becoming intimate with a stranger, a part of him still regretted holding back.

She'd been wholly accepting of his touch, and he could well have taken advantage of that fact by allowing his hands to wander elsewhere. However, the presence of the other patrons, as well as his own cowardice, had limited him to rubbing her stiff shoulders until she'd shrugged him off in satisfaction.

Afterward, he'd resigned himself to admiring the way those slender legs carried her out of the bathing area, his dry mouth, and empty stomach only adding to his frustration.

It was just as his old friends used to say. He possessed an adequate amount of wisdom but lacked the courage to pursue the things he truly desired. After all, a bolder man would most certainly have barred her from leaving and then coerced her into submission, regardless of what others thought or said.

Yet, if his parents' relationship was any indication, behaving in an aggressive and domineering manner was a poor way of winning over someone's affection. In fact, when he considered all of the married couples living nearby, it seemed as if the happiest women were the ones wed to men who were kind and gentle.

It was all very confusing, so he decided to seek counsel from his father that evening, as they waited for his mother to begin serving dinner.

"Father," he began after clearing his throat to get the man's attention. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course, son. Nothing should be a secret," Susumu said in reassurance, arranging his chopsticks so that they were parallel to each other.

Ichiro hesitated and then proceeded with his question, knowing that there wasn't anyone else he could consult. "Well, father, how... do I make a woman desire me alone?"

Susumu gave him a look of disbelief. "This sort of thing again? It is as I told you last time."

"Really? I don't think that I remember..."

"You are a charming yet virtuous young man. Just be your usual self, and she will surely fall in love with you eventually."

"That is another problem in itself, father."

Susumu raised his eyebrows. "How so?"

"If she doesn't desire me in the first place, then how can I convince her to become my wife?"

"You worry too much, Ichiro. There was a time when I thought that your mother was too young for me, but as the years passed, the distance between us became less vast. Sometimes, I even feel as if she is _my_ senior, instead of the other way around..."

"But, father, that was an arranged marriage."

"Exactly. If you cannot find a worthy or willing woman, then we shall do so for you."

Ichiro sighed, realizing yet again that his autonomy would always be secondary to the will of his parents.

He lowered his head in defeat, reluctant to look back up as the sound of his mother's approaching footsteps and the smell of freshly cooked rice and steamed vegetables let him know that dinner was soon to begin.

* * *

With his mother busy preparing the second meal of the day and his father handling some delivery, the duty of managing the shop space had predictably fallen upon his shoulders.

However, he couldn't complain. It was easier than carrying heavy loads to and from the market, he didn't have to shout over others, and the people who approached their house tended to be more polite.

The morning went by at a leisurely pace, and he felt content with his situation until a distant figure aroused his dread.

He soon recognized them as none other than Shinrokurō, whom he'd befriended shortly after arriving in this town as a child. They'd been close for a few months before a growing friendship group, and their difference in wealth had resulted in them drifting apart.

It had been over a year since he'd last seen or heard from his old friend, so the young man's sudden appearance on this street either boded very well or very ill.

He prayed that it would be the former, and as Shinrokurō drew nearer, it relieved him greatly to see a broad smile on the young man's face.

"Ichiro!" Shinrokurō exclaimed after greeting him with a bow. "Long time no see! How have things been lately?"

"They've been well," Ichiro replied, putting on a similar facade of pleasantry. "How about you?"

"My life has been splendid as usual, but there's one thing I wish to discuss with you. You see, it's about my wife, Chiyo..."

Ichiro swallowed in fear. He was aware of Shinrokurō's recent marriage but had never bothered to find out the bride's name or which family she'd come from.

He remembered the flirtatious young woman from the bathhouse, and everything began to make sense.

"Ch-Chiyo?" he stammered, already failing in his attempt to sound brave.

"Yes, that is her name," Shinrokurō replied, his smile showing no sign of fading. "She's told me everything, you know. You were really good to her, weren't you?"

"I... I don't know what you're talking about. She must have been mistaken..."

Shinrokurō chuckled in a manner that he found threatening.

"You say that, but we both know that it's difficult to forget a face like yours. She described you in great detail, too."

Ichiro felt his own chest tighten as he stared back. "It... it wasn't what you think. She asked me to massage her shoulders, nothing more..."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them before Shinrokurō evidently realized his mistake and burst into laughter.

"You poor fool! I'm not trying to accuse you of adultery!"

"What?" Ichiro muttered, feeling most confused.

"I apologize for giving the wrong impression. I merely wanted to show you gratitude for being so proper around my wife..."

He relaxed a little upon hearing such words. "This... this is news to me. I am flattered..."

"I'm glad you feel that way. Now, how would you like to come to my house tomorrow for some tea and conversation? Chiyo and I would both be happy to have you around..."

"Ah, I might have to ask my parents about that," Ichiro answered, thinking of his mother in the kitchen and his father, who was somewhere else in town. "There are only three of us, after all."

"That's alright. I understand," Shinrokurō said with a smile, though his eyes seemed to show disappointment. "I'll tell Chiyo to have her utensils ready, in case you do decide to visit..."

"Thank you for being so thoughtful, but-"

"No, the pleasure is all mine. It's the least I can do after neglecting our friendship for so long..."

Ichiro couldn't help but feel touched, despite having his doubts about Shinrokurō's true intentions. "I see. In that case, I appreciate your invitation, and I hope to receive your hospitality tomorrow..."

"That's good to hear. I must say that I enjoy your company even more than I remember, so it would fill me with great dismay if you failed to show up."

"Of course, I'll try my-"

"Now, I believe it is time we said farewell," Shinrokurō interrupted, much to Ichiro's consternation. "I have my own duties to attend to, and I can only hope that we'll meet again sooner rather than later..."

At that, he turned and departed along the same route on which he'd arrived, eventually disappearing into the distance and leaving Ichiro to mull over their exchange for the remainder of the day.


	7. Tea and Contemplation

As somebody who admired the late tea master Sen no Rikyū, Ichiro often wondered if the man would have accepted a person such as himself as a disciple. After all, it would have been a great honor, and one was almost certainly bound to win the respect of many as a result.

Granted, Master Sen had befriended one too many powerful men in his lifetime, and this had ultimately led to him being forced to commit ritual suicide a year after the execution of one of his most celebrated students.

Knowing this, Ichiro figured that he was lucky to be an unremarkable tea merchant who few cared about. If fame meant making countless enemies, then perhaps it was better to live an ordinary life and then fade into obscurity after one died.

_Such is life. We are but blossoms, blooming for a short while before-_

"Sensei?" an eager voice sounded, interrupting his deep thoughts. "Are we going to begin the lesson? I've been waiting."

"Of course." He straightened up in haste, laying eyes on Shinrokurō's wife Chiyo, who, through some unforeseen circumstances, had become his student in the ways of preparing and serving tea. "My apologies..."

He gave the room a thorough scan, taking note of the sparse furniture and ample space before focusing on the small alcove behind him. In it hung a white scroll with two characters that he did not recognize. He felt tempted to ask Chiyo for their meaning but quickly decided against it, fearing that she would respect him less if she found out that he was illiterate.

"You and Shinrokurō have done well," he praised upon facing her once more. "Surroundings are everything. This simplicity shall allow us to abandon worldly thoughts and focus only on the harmony within."

Chiyo did nothing but nod intently, which filled him with relief because even he could not understand the profound words that had come out of his mouth.

He then proceeded to the next step, which from memory, consisted of making sure all tools were clean and in good shape. Taking care not to display a frown or smile, he began with the _chakin_ * and finished with the tea whisk, all the while subtly rearranging everything to his liking. "You see, every movement must be deliberate and necessary..."

"Yes, I understand," Chiyo said, nodding again.

"First, we prepare the tea. You place three scoops of matcha into the bowl. Nothing more, nothing less."

He took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders as he transferred three full scoops to the bowl, each time silently urging himself not to spill a single grain. Then, he passed the tea scoop over to Chiyo so that she could also have a try. She took it with a coy smile, and when she bent over to fill her tea bowl, it happened.

Clothed or not, the mere sight of her chest was enough to remind him of their encounter in the bathhouse. He felt himself grow hard and swallowed in shame, even though it seemed like his robes were loose enough to hide the bulge completely.

Nevertheless, he had to keep her distracted in case his perception was wrong. "You're doing very well," he encouraged, reaching for the steaming pot to his right. "I would advise you to shift back a little. The water is very hot."

Chiyo obeyed, then went back to watching him keenly as he clenched his teeth and tried to maintain a steady hand while pouring water into his bowl.

By the time he returned the pot to its previous location, both his forehead and upper back were sweating. He attempted to shift one of his legs but found that doing so was difficult when he was involuntarily aroused. _Get a hold of yourself. Think of something else, for heavens' sake!_

"Sensei, is everything all right? You look hot."

Ichiro raised his head slightly. "Why, yes I am. Could you open a window?"

"I shall." Chiyo stood up and crossed the room to do his bidding. He relaxed and, to his relief, felt his erection weaken.

 _That was a close call..._ he thought, eyeing the tea whisk on the table.

Chiyo stepped away from the window, then sat back down, looking quite proud of herself. "I've opened it for you, Sensei. Can we continue?"

"Of course. It's getting late." He picked up the tea whisk while wondering why Shinrokurō still hadn't come back from his evening business. Common sense dictated that one shouldn't leave their wife alone with another man, and the fact that his friend had done just that, was suspicious indeed.

The last thing he wanted right now was to be suspected of adultery, so he sought to excuse himself as politely as he could. "On second thoughts, maybe we should stop now. I believe I've overstayed my welcome."

"No, we shouldn't. You were just about to get to the best part," Chiyo protested, clearly confused by his sudden change of mind.

"I'm afraid we must. It's night, and who knows what the neighbors might say or think, with your husband absent..."

Chiyo's face sank. "Is this how you see our time together? As something immoral?"

"No, but others might see it that way," he explained, putting aside his bowl of evenly whisked tea.

"Well, do you know what I think? That fear is more reflective of your character than it is of theirs."

With a pout, she stood up to head for the door behind her and yanked it open before slipping through. Ichiro felt his chest tighten as she slammed it shut, the impact of which made the surrounding walls shake ever so slightly.

Once it had subsided, he buried his face in his hands. He'd been so sure that there had been an ulterior motive when Shinrokurō had raised the idea of showing Chiyo the steps in a proper tea ceremony. However, it now seemed like his distrustful nature had made him imagine issues that were never real to begin with.

Yet, he knew that putting too much trust in anybody would likely lead to grave misfortune, a fact that frightened him since it meant that he'd never form a decent relationship besides the one he had with his parents.

Time passed, and it occurred to him that perhaps he simply wasn't suited for marriage. After all, chances were that he'd only make his future wife miserable with his inability to love or appreciate her.

It was a sobering thought, and as a result, he couldn't help but wonder if spending the rest of his life alone would be the best solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * A small rectangular cloth used to wipe the tea bowl.


End file.
